


Like No One's Watching

by AlwaysSpeaksHerMind



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: Double Dating, Essentially Plotless, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Humor, I just miss these characters, Why Did I Write This?, who can say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:06:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27042454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlwaysSpeaksHerMind/pseuds/AlwaysSpeaksHerMind
Summary: Kara arrives home to find her sister’s girlfriend laughing on the doorstep.(A dumb and lighthearted fic set in some nebulous, possibly-AU version of S2.)
Relationships: Alex Danvers & Mon-El, Alex Danvers/Maggie Sawyer, Kara Danvers & Maggie Sawyer, Kara Danvers/Mon-El
Comments: 7
Kudos: 32





	Like No One's Watching

**Author's Note:**

> This is not my best work and ridiculous as all get-out, but working on it lightened a few boring hours back in April, so hopefully it'll entertain someone else, too. Happy Friday, anybody reading this :]

After a morning that saw an alien weapon used in the attempted burglary of a doughnut shop (no money heisted, just a lot of sugary glazed goodness) and an afternoon where the prototype for some kind of ‘truth ray’ Winn had been building got accidentally shot at several high-ranking members of the DEO (probably no one was ever going to be the same after learning that Agent Shum cried every time he watched _The Notebook_ and un-ironically enjoyed The Wiggles, least of all Agent Shum), Kara decides that that’s it. Aside from world-ending catastrophe, which is of course always a risk in a place like National City, there is nothing left that can surprise her. Nothing. Zilch. Zippo.

Which is why, when she approaches the front door of her apartment and finds a certain NCPD detective slumped against the wall in tears, she instantly curses herself for jinxing it.

“Maggie?” she blurts out, hurrying forward. “What’s wrong—what happened, is it—”

“No.” Another shock there, because though her voice emerges as a choky whisper, Maggie is clearly not upset. Holding up a hand in the universal signal for _shut up,_ she beckons Kara forward with an almost wicked sparkle in her eye. “Thank God you’re here. I’m legitimately about to lose it.”

“Lose what?” Kara whispers, lowering her voice when the other woman hushes her again. “What’s going on?”

“Alex and Mon-El.” Cupping both hands over her mouth and nose, Maggie smothers a cough and wipes her eyes. “I got held up at work and thought I was going to be way late, so I texted Alex. Wound up being less late than I’d figured, and when I got here…” She muffles another cough-laugh and shakes her head, sucking in an unsteady breath. “You _gotta_ listen. I can’t be the only one dealing with this.”

Too confused to do anything other than obey, Kara cocks her head and concentrates on the faraway commotion filtering out into the hallway.

 _Five, six, seven—no, right arm,_ her sister’s stern, give-orders voice barks. _Right arm, Mon-El! Not left. See, watch me. Try it again. One, two, three, four, five, six, head, head!_

“What on earth?” Kara mutters, confusion deepening when Maggie starts rocking back and forth in silent laughter. “They’re not sparring, are they? Is my furniture in danger? Because I just replaced some of that stuff after Mon-El and I—I mean, uh, some of those decorations are expensive and I, I don’t want them getting broken.”

“Ignoring that last piece of TMI—no. They’re not sparring. _Listen_.” Leaning toward the door, her sister’s girlfriend releases an explosive little snort. “Oh my God, I think Alex is about to hit the music again!”

Almost before she’s finished speaking, a blast of familiar, ridiculously bouncy techno music starts blaring, and Kara’s eyes widen as the full picture finally dawns on her.

“No _way,_ ” she hisses, laughter attacking in the kind of giant waves no superpower in the world could hope to fight off. “They’re _not!_ ”

“They _are._ ” An actual tear makes its way down Maggie’s cheek, and she bats frantically at the air with a hand as Alex’s voice rises above the music, shouting out directions. “Have been for at least twenty minutes. Oh my _God,_ oh my _God,_ we have _got_ to record some of this!”

“Get your phone out,” Kara commands, digging furiously through her purse for her keys. “Alex is so gonna shut this Just Dance party down the second we walk in; we’ve got to be quick if we want to catch even a smidge of this for posterity.”

“Check and check. Hold on while I—yep, okay. Phone out…camera open.” Chortling again as Alex’s loud voice floats above the pulsing beat, hollering _Now hop right!_ Maggie looks at Kara and nods like they’re about to kick down a door and bust up a really bad drug deal or something. “On three?”

“I feel like it should be five, six, seven, eight?” Kara jokes, setting them both off again as she inserts the key and gives it a stealthy turn. “Just kidding, on three.” A quick peek over the top of her glasses tells her that both instructor and student have their backs to the doorway, and she chokes down another round of chuckles. “One, two, _three._ ”

She pushes open the door and they slide into the room together, entrance timed perfectly with the music’s first crescendo. Maggie’s phone hand is shaking as she extends it to catch the seriously uncoordinated magic unfolding before them, but right on cue, she glances at Kara and raises her eyebrows in a question anyone could decipher. Nodding back, Kara sucks in a deep breath and they shout together, loud enough to rattle the walls:

“ _HEY, Macarena!”_

The reaction from the ambushed dancers is immediate and extreme—Alex, mid awkward hip-shimmy, goes staggering off to the side as she tries to whirl around _and_ get into her usual attack-ready stance; Mon-El, mid awkward and slightly-behind-the-beat hip-shimmy, jumps so badly he almost hits his head on the ceiling and puts his foot through the lamp when he lands. And as they both realize who’s behind the unexpected invasion, the startled yelps turn to indignant accusations ( _What the hell, you guys? Whatever happened to the politeness of knocking? Delete that this second if you don’t want the NCPD’s homicide squad swarming all over this place in fifteen minutes! Forget the cops, we’re calling_ Eliza _and tattling_ ) that only serve to crack Kara and Maggie up even more.

“I’m not even kidding,” Alex snaps after she’s cut the music off, finger stabbing toward them in the kind of vicious point that pretty much only works on Winn and people who don’t know her these days. “If _any_ part of that footage makes its way onto the stupid internet or to anyone back at the DEO, I will make you both suffer in every way I know how.”

“ _Aww,_ but you look so _cute_ shaking your little ass all off-beat and everything _,_ ” Maggie coos with exaggerated sweetness, narrowly eluding Alex’s grasp by dodging behind the counter. “I think it would humanize you so much to all those new recruits you like to put the fear of God into if we let them sneak a peek at Agent _Dancers_ instead of Agent Danvers, don’t you, Kara?”

“Oh, yeah. Definitely,” Kara agrees, laughter turning into guffaws when her sister spears her with an evil glare. “What? They totally would. You _know_ they would.”

The grit in Alex’s gaze intensifies.

“Hey, Mon-El,” she says conversationally, folding her arms over her chest and narrowing her eyes at Kara. “Did I ever tell you about this awesome video I have of Kara practicing her Backstreet Boys moves in front of a mirror?”

“ _Noo,_ ” Mon-El says, looking up with interest from the lampshade he’s struggling to pull his foot from without falling. “Was that a thing that happened?”

“No,” Kara blurts, right as Alex answers with an emphatic _oh yeah._ “And I mean, even if that _was_ a thing that happened like a long, _long_ time ago—if it happened at all—it most definitely would have been NSYNC moves, not _Backstreet_ ones, sheesh.”

The gleam in Alex’s eye turns Disney villain levels of evil. “Oh, I don’t mean the one from when you were like thirteen. I’m talking about the one you sent me when you were on that pain medication the DEO lab made a little too strong and you found your old Justin poster.” 

A hazy, half-forgotten—or maybe half-repressed?—memory flashes through Kara’s mind, and she can actually _feel_ the red creeping into her cheeks as she remembers all the kooky rhythms she was vibing to for a solid hour. She doesn’t _think_ she tried to make out with the poster like she did a couple times in secret back when she was in junior high, but…she was for sure wearing her Supergirl costume, and there might have been some incidental sappy partner dancing to ‘This I Promise You,’ and that’s just so not something she’s eager to show the world. Imagine trying to act tough in front of a villain who’s seen _that._

“You wouldn’t,” she says, the threat sounding weak even to her.

“Try me.”

Kara hesitates for maybe two seconds before turning to Maggie. “All right, Sawyer. I’m gonna have to ask you to hand over the contraband.”

“What?” Maggie scoffs, immediately tucking the phone behind her back. “Like fun, Danvers Two! This was your idea as much as mine. You don’t get to get cold feet and back out just because of a little blackmail.”

“Come on now, _sweetie,_ ” Alex chimes in, moving in to cut off the other escape route. “Let’s just make this easy. Hand over the phone, and no one gets hurt.”

Maggie rolls her eyes, glancing from sister to sister before her shoulders slump in apparent defeat. “Fine, whatever.” But then, before anyone can react, she whistles shrilly through her teeth and tosses the phone in Mon-El’s direction. “Catch!”

“What, seriously?” Kara demands as her boyfriend snags the little gadget from midair. “He’s _in_ that video.”

“Yes, but _he_ doesn’t care if the internet sees him learning the Macarena,” Maggie says cheerfully, winking at Mon-El. “Right, Daxam?”

“Right,” Mon-El responds, laughing when Kara makes a rush toward him. “Also, not gonna lie, I kind of would love to see Supergirl—what’s the term, is it _grooving_?”

“Sure,” Maggie confirms. “Grooving works.”

“Yeah, right, grooving to some bouncy music. So if this happens to get posted…”

“All right, all right, all _right_ already!” Alex breaks in. “I give up. I’ll be blackmailed. Just…don’t let anyone see that, _ever,_ and what are the damn demands?”

“Huh, let’s _see_. Exactly how many movies and restaurants will the withholding of this information allow me to choose in the future?”

While the detective and special agent launch into typically-specific negotiations, Kara does her best to ignore the irritatingly-bright smirk her boyfriend’s currently aiming her way.

“What?” she grumbles at last, giving in when he begins clearing his throat in serious Dolores Umbridge fashion.

He grins, eyes twinkling. “So you like to _dance_ to NSYNC, too?”

Kara makes a noncommittal sort of grunt. “Maybe.”

“Was it good dancing?”

It wasn’t, but no way is she giving him the satisfaction of admitting it. “I was on too-heavy painkillers. I was out of it.”

“That’s not a _yes_ ,” he says, grin widening.

She pouts, arms crossing since she can’t come up with a defense beyond harrumphing. “Well, it’s not a _no,_ either.”

“Aw.” Matching her pout, he wraps his arms around her and leans in, giving her a quick peck on the nose. “Was it at least cute and endearing terrible dancing? Cause if it was, I still want to see it.”

She tries to make a face at him but ends up smiling in spite of herself. “I…can’t fully remember, actually. And anyway, you’re still not going to, so don’t ask. Some secrets we keep to protect others _and_ ourselves.”

“Yeah, maybe so.” Hands settling on her waist, he lifts an eyebrow as Alex and Maggie’s raised voices drift back to them. “Hey, since that sounds like it’s going to last a little while, you want to start the music up again so I can finish practicing?”

“What, by yourself?” she inquires, doubting her sister’s bruised dignity will feel like joining in after getting caught _and_ losing an argument.

“Well…” He pokes her lightly in the side, eyebrows wiggling. “I mean, if somebody _else_ wants to take over as dance instructor while my first one threatens her girlfriend…”

Kara presses her lips together, trying to seem skeptical. “So are you asking me special, or just looking for some backup?”

“Oh, right.” Immediately, he lifts a hand up between them. “May I have this Macarena, Kara?”

“You may.” Unable to keep back a giggle, she leans in and kisses him swiftly. “But, uh…let’s put Alex’s phone somewhere she can’t reach it before us.”

“Okay. But be careful, because she can move _pretty_ quickly. When she was showing me the dance of the chickens earlier—”

“Mon- _El!_ ” Alex shrieks, drowning out the rest of whatever he’s saying. “You took an oath!”

“Oath?” Kara and Maggie repeat together.

“Wait, I did?” Mon-El says, looking confused. “I thought that was only for the Macarena and the—”

Alex is across the room with her hand over his mouth so fast it leaves even Kara blinking.

“An. _Oath,_ ” she grits out. “We are never speaking of this again, understood?”

He nods, hands held up politely in surrender, and Alex huffs out a loud sigh as Kara and Maggie eye her curiously.

“No,” she says in answer to the unspoken questions. “Don’t bother. What happens in an Alex Danvers taught dance class _stays_ in an Alex Danvers taught dance class. End of story.”

“Right,” Kara agrees, bobbing her head seriously as Alex stalks off toward the bathroom, muttering something about needing to wipe off all her sweat. Then, expectantly, she turns back to Mon-El. “So what was it?”

He shrugs, palms up. “You heard her. Unless someone wants to show me the video of the Girl of Steel breaking down whatever it is Earthlings break down when they dance, _I’m_ not risking the wrath of Alex.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Kara says. “Ev _er._ ”

“Must be a Danvers thing,” Maggie deadpans.

“Must be,” Mon-El agrees, sighing in pretend sadness. “Oh, well. Guess I’ll get started cleaning up that lamp. No worries, you two can just sit there and…speculate.”

He heads off with a wink, and Kara rolls her eyes toward Maggie. “So what do you think?” she asks. “Electric slide? Ballet?”

“Personally, I’m hoping more along the lines of the moonwalk,” Maggie chuckles, shaking her head. “Trust me, though. One way or another, we are _going_ to find out. One of them’ll crack eventually. And if they don’t, we’ll make them.”

“Deal?” Kara says, holding a hand out.

“Deal.”

(It turns out to be the Hokey Pokey and the Hammer dance, and Kara’s only regret is that no one arrived soon enough to get footage of her sister and boyfriend putting their whole selves in and shaking it all about. Because really, how huge of a missed opportunity is that?)

**Author's Note:**

> I began this back in 2017 (2018?) but never posted because I paused to work on my longer Karamel fics and then sort of forgot about it. I found it again during lockdown and finished it up, so if it seems really disjointed, that’s probably why—part of it was written a couple years ago, and part of it was written this year. There’s really no point whatsoever to this other than my (sadly unfilled) desire to see a scene like this between Sanvers and Karamel, especially one juxtaposing the duos of Mon-El & Alex and Kara & Maggie, so…yeah. Except for the episode Mon-El had a cameo in, I haven’t watched Supergirl since like halfway through S4, but Karamel lives in my heart forever, and I’m still annoyed by the clumsy dismantling of Sanvers. Like…I understand beyond-the-writers’-control shakeups, but WHAT was THAT? Come on, man. 
> 
> But anyways. Thanks for reading/commenting, and hope everyone has a fantastic day/weekend and that you’re all staying safe + taking care of yourselves!


End file.
